


cast your spell

by reptilianraven



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crushes, M/M, Magic, Pre-Slash, basically a magical sickfic. let's make it a thing. care and healing + MAGIC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianraven/pseuds/reptilianraven
Summary: “Fuck,” Yuri says because what else are you supposed to say in a situation like this? Good morning? “What the hell happened to you?”The mystery man pauses for a while, then says, “Things.”“What—That doesn’t answer my—Hey! Don’t close your eyes, don’t pass out!”“Sorry,” the man says before subsequently passing out. Figures.-Yuri is a witch and Otabek is an injured, wandering hero who passes out on his doorstep. Despite the rocky start, things miraculously work out anyways.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i know the trope is 'the hero and the fairy', but i couldnt stop thinking about yuri as a witch. i mean just hear me out: he’s got a cat, seems like the type to hex people out of spite, and would look awesome in a pointy hat.
> 
> disclaimers: 1) tagged as pre-slash bc the most that happens here is yuri getting a crush and not comprehending it. if u wanted real deal shipping, shop elsewhere for now. just a heads up bc i dont wanna disappoint anybody. 2) short descriptions of injury up ahead. 3) plisetsky-typical swearing present and rampant within fic.
> 
> i hope you have fun!!!

For the first time in a long, long time, the cabin is peaceful. No incessant nagging, irritating side comments, or orders to get out of bed. Yuri wakes up to the beautiful sound of morning silence, punctuated only by soft winds. Yes, witches are social creatures, but damn if it isn’t fucking awesome to get some peace and quiet around here for once. 

Victor had set off on his journey a month ago when he had a vision of some “chosen one” living far off in the middle of nowhere and decided that destiny was urging him to meet the poor sap. Lilia left yesterday in search for some enchanted rock which he was sure was very important, or whatever. This left him in the cabin with only the cats for company, which, quite honestly, was heaven. 

Yuri gets out of bed and feeds Vera and Sofia, humming to himself as he wonders what to do today. With Lilia gone, he could practice whatever spells he wanted, and today seemed like a perfect day to try out those combat spells she forbids him from doing. Plan in mind, he eats a quick breakfast, dresses for the cold outside, and exits the cabin. Outside, the faint beginnings of winter are creeping in, and the chill brings a grin to Yuri’s face. His magic has always been better in the cold. 

He’s adjusting his cloak, mentally mapping out places in the forest he could practice in in peace, when he hears it; the steady beat of hooves against the ground.

Puzzled, Yuri whips his head to the treeline. The cabin wasn’t on a main trail and the sounds weren’t coming from the direction of the village. Instead, it echoed out from the forest. 

“Who’s there?” Yuri says, conjuring up a jagged piece of ice in his hand, which is pretty pathetic, as far as weapons go, but it’s better than nothing, he thinks as the sounds get louder and louder. “If you’re anything less than friendly, I’m sending this through your skull!”

He doesn’t get a reply, but he also doesn’t get an arrow to the heart, so it’s a win either way. From the treeline, a large, black maned horse finally walks past, sluggish and exhausted with every step. On its back, a rider slumped forward.

Before Yuri could start yelling questions again, the rider slumps too far and falls off his horse completely with a groan. 

“The fuck?” Yuri says, staring at the man who is now just faceplanted into the ground. He was just about ready to continue with his day and hope that whatever this was, it would go away, right up until he notices the blood beginning to stain the man’s cloak.

“Oh, _shit_.” He hurries over to the man, the horse standing aside as if to give him way, and turns him over. Yuri is met with a face littered with small cuts and a few bruises, the man’s eyes closed in what Yuri will assume is a lot of pain. 

“Hello,” His eyes crack open to hazily look up at Yuri. 

“Fuck,” Yuri says because what else are you supposed to say in a situation like this? Good morning? “What the hell happened to you?”

The mystery man pauses for a while, then says, “Things.”

“What—That doesn’t answer my—Hey! Don’t close your eyes, don’t pass out!”

“Sorry,” the man says before subsequently passing out. Figures.

-

Dragging the mystery man into the cabin without jostling him too much is a pain, especially since he seems to have a few inches on Yuri, but he gets it done hopefully without injuring the guy further. 

After laying him on Victor’s bed since the asshole isn’t here to complain about bloodstains, Yuri stops for a moment. The man is a complete stranger. He didn’t seem harmful, in the very brief amount of words they exchanged just minutes ago, but it never hurts to be sure, especially since Lilia would kill him if he had just brought in a criminal into their cabin.

So Yuri closes his eyes, mutters his incantations, and very quickly lets his magic snake out and take a peek at the man’s aura. Not deep enough to see thoughts, but just enough to see if the man was the type to murder Yuri in his sleep later.

What meets him is an aura like a sunset. Orange with soft breezes. The edges are tinged red with pain and agony, but at its core, it certainly isn’t evil. It’s actually very pleasant. Warm. Steady.

Yuri shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality. He had work to do.

Being a witch near a village with no doctors means that they get to do most of the healing around here, so this guy isn’t Yuri’s first patient. But then again, this isn’t a few scrapes or a migraine. When he cuts the guys shirt away, muttering a short apology, Yuri sees long gashes and bruising around his ribs. The man’s shoulder was right dislocated, and a quick check also confirms a sprained ankle. This is much more than anything he’s had to do before, but since he was the only one here, mystery man is just going to have to deal.

Yuri cleans the gashes and bandages them before painting down a rune on the bandage to speed up the healing. With a sight spell, he finds no internal bleeding, thankfully, but a few cracked ribs that he can only cast another healing rune to. By this point, Yuri’s already feeling drained, what with most of his magic working on stitching bone and skin back together, but he toughs it out and moves to the man’s shoulder.

This, Yuri saved for last because there’s no way the man isn’t going to wake up from it. Yuri blows on his hands, coating them in ice for some semblance of numbness, and pushes the shoulder back in.

The mystery man wakes up with a gasp, bolting upwards only to fall back to the bed with a pained groan. 

“Ow,” Mystery man says succinctly, blinking at the ceiling. “That hurt.”

“Yeah, you’re injured in like, seven different places. A lot of things are going to be hurting for a while,” Yuri tells him, collapsing into a chair by his bedside.

“Where am I?”

“A dump in the middle of nowhere. Can you handle the pain?”

“Yeah,” Mystery man shifts slightly and winces with every movement. 

“Stop moving, you’ll only make it worst.” Yuri rolls his eyes, grabbing the man’s wrist.

“What—”

“Shut up,” He says, concentrating the rest of his energy into an incantation. As exhausted as Yuri currently feels, it can’t be as bad as what this guy is going through, so he lets his magic, tired as it is, form one last spell.

“Oh,” The man says, relaxing into the bed. “What did you do?”

“Just a pain relieving spell,” Yuri leans back into his chair, hoping he doesn’t look too much like shit. “It’ll probably last a few hours before wearing off and you’re going to start feeling really drowsy right about now.”

He nods, looking at Yuri intensely. “You’re tired,” He says, words beginning to slur.

“Yeah, magic has the tendency to do that after a shitton of spells.”

“Magic?” His eyebrows knit. “You’re...a mage?”

“Sure,” Yuri props his feet up on a vacant part of the bed.

“I thought you were a fairy,” Mystery man says, and he’s _definitely_ out of it. 

“You ever meet any fairies before?” Yuri scoffs. 

“No, but I think they’d look like you.”

“You should shut up rest, you know,” Yuri tells him, because what is he supposed to say to _that_?

“Right. What—” The man frowns, as if words are becoming very difficult for him right now. “What’s your name? I don’t think I asked.”

“You didn’t. My name’s Yuri,” He says. “What’s yours? I can’t just keep calling you ‘mystery man’ in my head.”

“Otabek,” he tells Yuri. Then his eyes shut closed and he’s gone. This is beginning to be a pattern for him.

-

At some point, Yuri falls asleep, surrendering to the exhaustion of casting that many spells in such a short amount of time. When he wakes, he realizes two things. The first is that somebody had lain a blanket on him, and the second is that his patient is missing, or at least no longer on the bed.

“And what the fuck are you doing there?” Yuri says when he walks around the bed and finds the man—Otabek on the floor.

“Nothing,” Otabek braces himself against the bed, trying to stand, but between his ankle and how bad his ribs must hurt, he just slides back down pitifully.

“Yeah, right. You’re doing awesome.” Yuri raises an eyebrow, but he isn’t cruel enough to leave Otabek. He slings Otabek’s uninjured arm around his neck and hefts him back into the bed. 

“Thanks,” Otabek says, having enough pride to look a little bit bashful at falling to the floor in the first place.

“Whatever, don’t mention it. What were you trying to do anyways?”

“Water.”

“You should’ve woken me, idiot.” Yuri tells him as he pads over to fetch a mug of water. 

“You looked tired,” Otabek shrugs, leaning forward to drink.

“Yeah, and you look like you fell off a cliff,” he says. “There’s nobody else here, so if you need anything, just tell me. Better than moping on the floor.”

“You live here alone?”

“No, but my other covenmates are off questing for one reason or another.” Yuri sits down and checks on his charms and runes. His magic isn’t as fast as Lilia’s of Victor’s, but it’s steadily doing the job. 

“Coven?”

“Yeah, I’m a witch, genius. I was sure the cauldron over there would’ve tipped you off.” 

“I just thought you liked making large quantities of soup,” Otabek says, looking around at the barely contained chaos of the cabin. “And, perhaps, leaving books and vials all over the place.”

“You should make more assumptions,” With a handwave, he draws some ice from thin air, Otabek watching intently from the corner of his eye. He wraps it in a cloth and presses it Otabek’s shoulder. “I, for example, have already pegged you as one of those ridiculous hero types.”

“Was it the horse?” Otabek says, and he’s not smiling, exactly, but Yuri can hear the tiny amount of mirth in his words.

“And the sword. And the bow and arrow. Both of which are shitty, by the way. You need better ones.”

“Noted.”

“Is the pain okay?”

“Yeah. What you did awhile ago helped a lot.”

“I should hope so,” Yuri blows his hair out of his face. “You got banged up pretty bad. I used all the spells I knew how to do perfectly, and I would’ve done more but if I messed up, you’d end up with scales, or something.”

“You didn’t have to,” He says. “I really didn’t mean to disturb you. In fact, I think I’ve imposed enough. I’m well enough to be riding again so—” And then Otabek starts sitting up.

Irritated, Yuri sends a gust a wind in his direction, knocking him back into bed. Sofia hops up and lies on Otabek’s stomach, keeping him still. Good girl.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m letting you out like this,” Yuri stands to look down at him. “My spells are helping you out right now, but you’re still in no shape to even fucking stand. I used a fuckton of magic on you and I’ll be pissed if you waste it all by going off and dying anyways.”

“You have a very aggressive bedside manner,” Otabek says after a pause.

“I’m a witch, not a nurse.”

“And I’m somebody who’s inconvenienced you enough.”

“Can you drop the honorable hero shtick for like, five minutes?” Yuri rolls his eyes. “You’re being more of a pain now than when you were bleeding all over the floorboards.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, lifting a hand to pet Sofia.

“Whatever. Just shut up rest, geez.” Yuri hunches in his chair, crossing his arms. 

Vaguely, he’s rather annoyed at this entire ordeal. One injured hero on his doorstep, and there goes his peace and quiet. This will be an insufferable few weeks ahead of him before the guy is well enough to leave. Yuri is sure of it.

-

By the end of the first day, Yuri begrudgingly accepts that Otabek’s presence isn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. The cats don’t hate him, and neither can Yuri.

Once Yuri had made it clear that there was no way Otabek was leaving until he was fully recovered, he settled and became a model patient. Otabek isn’t fussy or demanding. He’s rather quiet and it goes up to the point that he keeps it to himself when the pain gets a little too much. He never gets away with it for too long since Yuri can tell when that sunset of his is wavering. (Not that he’s _always_ looking through Otabek’s aura, or anything. Just keeping a watchful eye.) 

To keep Otabek occupied, Yuri gives him a few books to read, books about potions and magical creatures and whatnot. He didn’t think Otabek would actually be interested in them, but he reads, focused, and moves on from one book to another.

“I didn’t think heroes would be so engrossed with,” Yuri squints to look at the title of the cover in Otabek’s hands. “— _A Comprehensive Guide to Enchanted Fungi._ ”

Otabek shrugs, eyes still trained on the page. “It’s interesting. I’ve never encountered magic before.”

“Huh,” Yuri says.

By the end of the second day, Yuri figures that Otabek is an okay guy. He’s sure the cats agree because Vera and Sofia don’t mind it when Otabek runs his fingers through their fur.

Yuri, no longer completely exhausted and drained, makes a batch of potions to trade for some supplies later. Otabek doesn’t make fun of how Yuri tends to narrate every step to himself and instead just watches. Occasionally he asks questions (not dumb ones, because Otabek _learned_ things from the books), and Yuri doesn’t even get annoyed answering them since Otabek seems genuinely invested in everything coming out of Yuri’s mouth.

“It’s really impressive,” Otabek says after Yuri explained why exactly the cauldron has to be at this exact temperature in this exact way.

“What is?” Yuri asks absentmindedly, grinding some herbs in a mortar while a ladle in the cauldron stirs the brew by itself.

“Your magic,” He says. Yuri pauses, ladle stilling along with him, to look at Otabek. “You’re really good at it.”

Yuri—who was only ever used to Lillia and Victor chiding him over his magic, pushing him further and further, nitpicking every aspect, or Mila and the other villagers who respect his magic, but still treat him like a child—blinks, stunned at the praise.

“Thanks,” Yuri tells him. Otabek asks another question, and they go on from there. 

By the end of the third day, Yuri is able to acquiesce that Otabek is not only okay, but pretty fucking interesting. Vera and Sofia have progressed from tolerance to outright adoration, and Yuri can relate. 

Otabek is _cool_.

With not much to do, Otabek asks for Yuri to tell him about himself, and so he does. He starts with his grandfather and his home, a village higher up in the mountains, covered in snow. Yuri retells the tale of how he got into magic, how it felt like turning his head to a stranger calling out his name. Otabek laughs for the first time when Yuri tells him that he’d accidentally hexed the kids of his old village with toothaches for making fun of his hair. He tells him about moving here to study magic under Lilia, to hone his abilities into something better, something _more_ , and Otabek nods, understanding.

In return, Otabek talks in a simple, humble retelling of his adventures. Yuri learns he’s from a city a ways away where he defeated some evil wizard. He’d protected the city from harm until harm just stopped arriving at all, and he set off to unknown lands. Otabek isn’t following any prophecy or destiny or whatever the hell else heroes usually start their journeys for. He isn’t journeying for glory or gold. As Otabek talks about orcs and goblins and ghouls, Yuri realizes with mounting disbelief that Otabek is literally just a guy going around and...helping people.

“Is that how all this—” Yuri gestures to the entirety of Otabek, “—happened? While you were helping out? Or did you actually just fall off a cliff.”

“I didn’t fall off a cliff,” Otabek says. He lies on his side, hand dangling over the edge, trailing a piece of string back and forth for Vera to pounce on. Sofia is asleep on his legs. “I was ambushed.”

“Ooh, exciting.” Yuri grins, scrawling a few lines on his sketchpad. On the page, he’s trying to modify some old runes.. “By what? Werewolves? Harpies? Sentient trees?”

“You made up that last one,” Otabek lets Vera catch the piece of string. “And, uh. No. None of that.”

“A golem? A troll?”

“Bandits, actually.”

“Bandits,” Yuri stops sketching to look at Otabek. “You’ve fought countless beasts and you were done in by _bandits_.”

“I was _ambushed_.” Otabek insists, but he’s hiding his face behind his arm, embarrassed. “Seven against one. I couldn’t have gotten through that without a scratch.”

“Seven? Now that’s just not fucking fair,” Yuri says, his teasing mood immediately replaced by anger. “Who the fuck do they think they are?

“Uh, bandits probably.” 

“Smartass,” Yuri chucks his sketchpad off to the side, walking to where Otabek’s meager belongings lay in a pile. 

“What’re you doing?” He sits up and only looks slightly quizzical when, from the pile, Yuri pulls Otabek’s sword, still in its scabbard. 

“All your weapons are shitty,” Yuri tells him, dragging the sword with him back to his seat. 

“Yes, I recall you telling me this before.”

“They’re shitty because they’re _normal_ ,” He says. With a wave, Yuri calls his ice to his fingertips. “Most heroes have cool magic weapons, like a sword from an enchanted lake or some woodland princess.” He touches the hilt, the ice snaking out and carving lines and curves into the leather, then deeper into the wood. “The extra magic adds some advantage in a fight.”

“Why is it always ice?” Otabek asks, gaze focused on Yuri, or perhaps what Yuri is doing. The latter makes more sense.

“What do you mean?” 

“When you use magic, you seem to have a preference for ice.” 

“Some of us just have a type of magic that comes easiest,” he says, careful not to mess up the engraving. A wrong inch to the left, and the sword just might catch on fire every time Otabek takes a swing. “Victor is a seer without even trying, Lillia seems to control the air, and I have ice.”

Yuri draws his hand back, admiring his handiwork. On the hilt of Otabek’s sword is a rune crusted in ice, intricate and exact.

“It’s beautiful,” Otabek tells him, and Yuri can never get over how free Otabek is with his praise. How honest. Yuri is used to people calling his magic useful or full of potential. But never _this_.

Yuri pushes the sword into Otabek’s arms. “Congratulations, your sword is kinda magic now.”

Otabek runs his fingers over the rune, “I think know this one, from your book. It’s a bit different, though.”

“Yeah, I added some extra features.” Yuri waves his hand dismissively. “It’s a hybrid between a protection rune, a luck rune, and a _gravis_ rune, just for some extra punch. Kid stuff, really.”

“Thank you,” He says sincerely. Then he asks, “Why are you so nice to me?”

Oh, now that is something Yuri has _never_ been called before. “I’m not nice.”

“But you are. You just have a peculiar way of going about it.” Otabek counters and the bastard has the audacity to smile while he’s at it.

“I am not—stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you actually believe I’m nice!”

“I can’t help it, I do.” And now Otabek is well in the territory of smug. Yuri has the urge to stick his head out the window and yell for some reason, though the feeling isn’t entirely unpleasant. “Now I just want to know why. I showed up at your home unannounced, needing help, and using up your time. I don’t see any reason why you’re so nice to me.”

“It’s—” Yuri stutters, well aware that he won’t be able to convince Otabek that he’s probably half demon, because literally nobody else ever needed convincing. “You’re—okay,” he says, and that’s not quite right. That was yesterday. “No, I mean. You—are. You’re cool. I guess.”

Yuri now feels like jumping out through the window completely. 

“I think you’re cool too,” Otabek says, because things just always seem simple for him. He thinks something and then he says it. It absolutely _boggles_ Yuri.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page, but what, exactly, does that all mean?”

“I think it means we’re friends,” he says and, oh.

“Oh,” Yuri says. 

By the end of the third day, Otabek is Yuri’s friend. How, or more importantly _why_ it happened, he doesn’t know, but he figures the cats probably saw it coming a mile away.

-

Otabek, aided by Yuri’s magic, recovers steadily. His ankle is good as new, his shoulder no longer aches, and all his gashes are healed, faint scars the only reminder that they were ever there. The only things still healing are Otabek’s ribs, bones still stitching themselves back together with every recast of Yuri’s mending rune. But with how everything looks, it won’t take longer than a week.

Mostly well and able to walk, Otabek is out of bed the moment Yuri tells him he won’t kill him for it. With his newfound mobility, Otabek does a myriad of ridiculously helpful things. 

Yuri figures Otabek just likes doing things that make him question how Otabek is even real.

He sweeps the whole cabin and only then does Yuri realize exactly how much dust and cat hair had accumulated, well, everywhere. He reorganizes the shitton of random paraphernalia in the cabin in such a way that the place doesn’t look like a dump. He fixes the wobbly hinge of the front door. He arranges the books _alphabetically_.

“How in the world did you find books you needed before?” Otabek muses, sliding _Poisons and their Respective Antidotes_ into the shelf which used to just house a few cobwebs and jars. 

“I usually just whacked Victor in the head until he had a vision of where it’d be in the future.”

“Charming as always.”

“If it works, it works,” Yuri says. The odd feeling concerning the window is back, and Yuri is bothered to note that it’s becoming more and more common. 

Together, since there was no chance at all for Otabek to wait at the cabin alone, they trekked through the forest to the village for supplies. The air is colder now, these days, and Yuri welcomes it as it nips at his skin. 

Mila, unsurprisingly, greets Yuri’s arrival by running straight at him and lifting him into a hug before verbally harassing him. He just wants to buy fruit in peace, but Mila has other plans. Plans like holding basic goods hostage in exchange for small talk.

“I mean, I was sure you finally ran away and started on your journey for unlimited magical power, or something. You didn’t pass by for so long! And we all know you like attention, deep down,” Mila tells him, looking over to where Otabek seems to have gotten into a conversation with _Yakov_ , of all people. “But I get it now.”

Yuri narrows his eyes at her. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’d shut myself in for a week if I had a super handsome guy like that with me,” she sighs dreamily. 

Her words make him angry, which makes no sense at all because she isn’t wrong; Otabek _is_ handsome. Half the things Yuri feels these days make no sense, so he just ignores it and goes to save Otabek from Yakov so they can finally get back. 

Unfortunately, they both get roped into talking to more people, no doubt somehow orchestrated by Mila. Yuri can’t help but be pleased with the fact that, while Otabek makes polite conversation with everybody who speaks to him, asking him questions about where he’s from or what he does, Otabek doesn’t seem too into it. To make matters better, or worse, depending on who exactly you’re asking, most of the villagers seem intimidated by Otabek.

Yuri laughs when Georgi tells him this. 

“He is _not_ intimidating,” Yuri says, recalling that one time Otabek had lifted Sofia, making her look very, very long, and had said quietly, “A snake.”

“It’s his face,” Georgi says. “His face is a well mannered death glare. Too stoic. Too...enigmatic.”

“It doesn’t matter. I like his face,” Yuri says, and only realizes it’s a mistake when he sees Mila grinning at him like a loon. “Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You were saying shit in your head. I’m a witch, I can tell.”

“You’re making that up.”

When Lilia comes back from her trip, she merely raises an eyebrow at Otabek before turning to Yuri to scold him for taking in strays, but says nothing else when she sees how the cabin has improved in his presence. Otabek makes her tea, looking way too serious throughout the whole process. He hands it to her before leaving the cabin to tend to his horse, or something.

Lilia takes a sip, pauses, and tells Yuri, “I like this one.”

“He’s awesome,” Yuri nods sagely, happy that Otabek has Lilia’s approval (again, makes no sense at _all_ ). 

“When will he leave?” Lilia asks.

Four words and, abruptly, that reality crashes into Yuri in a quiet, sure, awful wave. Lilia senses the inner turmoil she just caused, and leaves, tea in hand, so that Yuri can deal with it. Whatever _it_ is. Whatever seems to be coiling deep in his gut, heavy and heaving.

“Hey,” Yuri walks out to where Otabek was combing through his horse’s mane. He gets straight to the point and says, “Your ribs will be perfect again in a few days, probably. You’ll be good to go, then.”

“Oh,” Something in Otabek’s expression wavers, but it’s gone too fast for Yuri to figure it out. “Right.”

“When do you plan on leaving?” He asks, quick, like pulling out a splinter. 

“I guess I can leave before the end of the week.” Two days. 

The most enjoyable time of Yuri’s life, now with a deadline. Usually, when faced with facts he doesn’t like, Yuri just shuts the world out and waits for the issue to go away. The only difference is that now, it’s Otabek who’s going away. If he shuts himself away now, he’ll just miss his first friend leaving.

Not a fucking _chance_.

“Are you busy right now? No, of course you’re not. You’re brushing your horse, you’re bored out of your mind,” Yuri says, and when Otabek smiles, he knows he’s doing the right thing. “We’re going somewhere.”

“How far is it?” 

“Half hour trek maybe. Why?”

“We can ride there instead,” Otabek strokes the nape of his horse. His very majestic looking horse.

“Fine, but if I fall off, break my neck, and die, you’ll be lost in the forest forever.”

“Noted,” He says, amused. 

Yuri runs the cabin to fetch something, a satchel, and runs back. Otabek is already on his stupid good looking horse, looking every bit the hero he is, and he holds out a hand for Yuri. The odd feeling is back, but since there are no windows nearby, he just takes Otabek’s hand and gets hoisted up into the saddle.

They ride out into the forest and Otabek asks no questions. He just rides in whatever direction Yuri tells him to go to, cutting through the trees and the frigid air. It’s exhilarating, Yuri thinks, riding out into the world like this. This is what Otabek does, after all, and what he’ll continue to do once he’s left. Yuri can’t possibly resent him for it.

When they arrive, Otabek slows down, dismounts, and helps Yuri off too. He ties his horse to a tree while Yuri walks forward past the treeline.

“A pond,” Otabek says when he catches up to Yuri. The pond in question is a pretty sight. Glittering and calm. 

“Yeah,” Yuri tosses Otabek his satchel. He opens it and pulls out two pairs of ice skates. “There was one like it, back at my old village. It was always frozen, so I could always skate there.”

Otabek skips a pebble on the pond’s surface. “It hasn’t frozen over yet.”

“Well,” Yuri grins. “Watch this.”

Yuri’s never tried to do anything this big, but if there’s one thing Yuri knows he’s good at, it’s going past the known and searching for more. So he drops to one knee and dips his fingers into the water. He thinks of snowy mountains, of home, of where the ice found him, and, for some reason, of sunsets. As if calling all the cold of the forest to his hands, withdraws his fingers from the water, and sets it all back out onto its surface.

He stands and admires his work.

“Show off,” Otabek says, looking at the now frozen pond. A pristine, untouched mirror.

“Oh, I can show off way more.”

They lace their skates together but Yuri steps out onto the ice first. He does a lap around the pond, testing the thickness of the ice and adding more to where it feels thin. Yuri sees Otabek still standing at the side, watching Yuri with an expression he can’t un

“Hey, hero, what the hell are you waiting for?” Yuri asks, skating to a stop in front of him. “Never skated before?”

“I have, but only once or twice,” he says. “I’m rusty.”

“I don’t care,” Yuri shrugs. He holds his hand out. “Come on.”

Otabek takes his hand.

For all that Otabek had stalled, he’s not actually complete mess on the ice. After a few minutes of clumsy wobbling, he manages to find his balance, and then they’re off. Yuri skates gleeful little circles around Otabek, laughing when Otabek tries to catch him. They move on the ice, light and quick, smiling like a bunch of idiots in the cold.

The cold has always been a welcome feeling for Yuri, one that reminds him of home and of his power. But now, gliding on the ice, watching Otabek skate with an easy smile on his face, there’s an odd warmth, one that feels like home just as much as the ice does.

“Hey,” Otabek says, skating over to him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“Everything. For helping me out, for giving me a place to say, for—this.” Yuri looks away. This sounded too much like a farewell. “It’s a lot, everything you’ve done. I needed to tell you before I le—”

“Don’t mention it,” he interrupts Otabek. “What are friends for, right?”

“Right,” Otabek says, then he looks up. “Yuri, look.”

“What is it?” Yuri tilts his head up.

“It’s snowing.”

-

Yuri helps Otabek get ready to leave even if the entire ordeal feels like getting stabbed repeatedly in the gut. He buys supplies from the village for Otabek. He gives him as many potions as Otabek’s satchel can carry. He carves runes into nearly all of Otabek’s belongings. It’s the least Yuri can do. This fucker alphabetized their books, after all. 

Otabek draws the line when Yuri attempts to cast a protection rune on the horse. (He totally could’ve made it work. He could’ve carved the rune into its horseshoes.)

It’s morning, when everything is done. Yuri watches Otabek mount his horse in silence. He sits on the saddle, straight and proud, sword at his hip. He looks wholly like some big damn hero who’s going to get legends about him told one day. Yuri thinks, that big damn hero is my friend. 

My friend who is about to leave.

“Yuri,—”

“If you try to thank me again, I’m climbing on and punching you in the face. You’ve thanked me, like, a hundred times.” Yuri rolls his eyes, handing Otabek his satchel. Their fingers brush momentarily, and Yuri wonders if, in his life, he’s ever wanted something to last as much as this. 

Otabek laughs, before settling into a smile that has the fucking _gall_ to look sad too. “I’ll refrain from adding to it, then.”

“Vera and Sofia will miss you,” Yuri says because he isn’t Otabek. He isn’t honest Otabek who’ll say whatever the fuck he’s actually thinking. He isn’t going to say _I’ll_ miss you. 

“I can come back to visit, some time.” Otabek fidgets with the reins.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep,” Yuri tells him. Heroes go and only come back in stories. That’s how things were. “Don’t get ambushed anymore, too. In fact, don’t get hurt. Or cursed. Or killed by a dragon or whatever. I’ll be fucking pissed if you died.”

“I’ll try my best not to, then, until I have your permission,” he says, smiling, ducking his head. When he lifts his gaze, it’s to the forest. To whatever it is heroes look for when they set off into the world. Otabek looks back to Yuri, and says “Goodbye, Yuri.”

Like ripping out a splinter. “Goodbye, Otabek.”

Otabek nods, spares Yuri one last lingering look, and tightens his hold on the reins, riding forward into the forest. Away, away, away. 

Yuri stands there until the sound of gallops trickles off into silence, only the rustling of leaves and his shallow breaths reminding him that the world had not stopped completely. Yuri is an ice witch. The cold has always felt reassuring, but whatever chill has taken Yuri is something else entirely. It doesn’t feel like home. It just feels lonely. 

He’s just about to walk back into the cabin, ready to lie in bed and try to forget the feeling of sunsets, when the silence is interrupted. Harried sounds, gallops echoing in the distance. Yuri’s heart is beating in his ears and he lets himself hope.

From the treeline, that stupid beautiful horse bursts through, skidding to a stop in front of Yuri.

“Okay, sorry. I’m sorry. I just—” Otabek starts before Yuri can even say anything. He soldiers on, tripping on his words in a spectacular manner. “Sorry. I just. I realized I never asked. And I know you’ll say no. I know, but I never asked. I didn’t and you’re my friend—”

“Holy shit, stop right there,” Yuri says because they’re not going to get _anywhere_ like this. “Coherent sentences, Otabek. Try it out.”

“Right,” he laughs nervously. “Right. I just wanted to ask if, well.”

“The suspense is killing me here—”

“Would you like to come with me?”

Yuri blinks. Somewhere in his mind, these words resonate like nothing else before. Otabek is talking again before Yuri can even finish his thought.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just had to ask but I’ll go now and—

“Yes.”

“—what. What?” He says.

“Yes. I said yes,” Yuri says, beginning to smile.

“What?” Otabek says for the third time. “Are you sure? I mean—”

“Fuck you, asshole. You asked me and my answer is yes.”

“But.”

“ _Yes_. I’m saying yes, for fuck’s sake.” Yuri can’t even get mad at Otabek for doubting him when Otabek starts smiling. “Shut the fuck up and get down from there! I’m coming with you and I’ve gotta pack shit and say goodbye and maybe we can leave in a few days because I’ve gotta plan and—”

Otabek hops to the ground, looking as ecstatic as his face allows, cautious at the edges. He asks, “Are you really sure?”

“Do you want it in fucking writing?”

“No, no, your handwriting is awful,” Otabek says and he can’t get another word because Yuri punches him in the side for the lack of anything better to do. Whatever. The guy’s ribs are all healed anyways.

“Yes, I’m going with you,” he tells him. “You’re going to have to try real damn hard if you want me to say no to my best friend.” 

(From inside the cabin, Lilia hears everything and is not surprised at all.)

Otabek seems to finally accept Yuri’s answer and holds his hand out for a handshake, of all things. It’s so ridiculously Otabek that Yuri can’t resist going along with it, taking Otabek’s hand into his own. 

Yuri is doing this. To hell with the known. Past the village, past the forest, the possibilities were endless. Yuri’s always wanted more, and now he gets to do it with Otabek at his side. Even if he tried, he couldn’t think of anything better.

**Author's Note:**

> alternative fic summary: lilia's coven dispersed due to the power of love.
> 
> any and all medical inaccuracies in this fic were fixed via magic. hopefully more will come from this verse if college doesnt kill me.
> 
> im [actualbird](http://actualbird.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. i hope you had fun!!


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